


Crafty Beginnings

by roosterteethrambles



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 04:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16866121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roosterteethrambles/pseuds/roosterteethrambles
Summary: Working in retail is hell. Working in craft retail is a whole other layer. But one customer makes it worth it.





	Crafty Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2015-ish? 2016? I can only date it based on a) the Dunkquis cameo, and b) I had written it for my friend Em who was working in a craft store at the time.

You suck your lower lip into your mouth and bite down on the flesh below it, willing your eyes  _ not _ to widen in disbelief at this woman. “Ma’am,” you start with the most patient smile you can muster, but you’re interrupted with a single finger being raised.  _ Goddamnit _ .

“I have to find these coupons, but I have ones that are good for all of these,” she snaps as she glares at her phone, holding it close to her face and then further down, leaning her head back, typing with one finger.

You look at the collection of spools of thread in her basket and want to bang your head against the register. Each one can’t be more than $3 and still.  _ Still _ . There are coupons that exist for them. With a deep breath in, you try and make light conversation, “So, what kind of project are you working on?”

The woman tuts loudly, “And now I missed what I scrolled past, great. You’re wasting your own time distracting me too, you know.” She sighs as she swipes up again at approximately 0.005% the speed a snail could travel the distance of a phone screen. “If you must know, I don’t have any kind of project right now. But you never know when you’ll need thread.”

_ Sure. Zombie apocalypse comes crashing down ending civilisation as we know it, who knows when those eggshell and evergreen threads will come in handy, huh?  _ “That’s true!” After seeing a couple of people in the queue looking at their watches and tapping their feet, you suggest, “What email provider do you use? Only most have an inbuilt search function so if you look for certain words you’ll fi-”

“Listen,” the woman looks up at you, and you bite down on your tongue. “I don’t tell you how to press the little buttons on your little computer thing. I think I know how to use my own phone.”

She doesn’t. She really doesn’t.

Eventually she shows you an email, and you read it closely. “Uh, ma’am, I can scan these, but you are aware that they only apply for -”

“I have more in another email account,” she snatches her phone back and exits the app.

You stammer, “Uh-ah-Ma’am, I...I didn’t get time t-to scan those in yet…”

“Well, why not?!” she asks exasperatedly. “Now I have to find them all over again!”

“Actually, it’ll still be open in your apps if you just open up the tabs - that’s it, and tap the emails wind- No, that’s,” you purse your lips again as she swipes the window closed. 

“Where’s it gone? I did everything you said!” she yells at you, and at this point you can feel yourself fighting back angry tears. “Where is your manager? I demand to speak to a mana-”

“ _ I am a manager _ ,” you say through gritted teeth. “We’re short on cashiers,” you gesture to the other empty registers, “so I stepped in.” As she stands there, flabbergasted, you breathe out slowly. “Just...Find it again, ma’am. It’s fine.” You drum your fingers on the counter, pressing the buzzer underneath your counter to alert more of your colleagues to attend to the large queue forming.

“That’s annoying and distracting. Customers aren’t going to like retailers that employ people who aren’t interested in meeting their service users’ needs,” she snaps.

_ Oh, you’re so right. I couldn’t give a shit about your needs. I don’t know why you need 32 different coloured threads for an “emergency stash” and frankly I don’t care, I just want you out of my store and so do the twelve people waiting behind you. _

Five email accounts and twelve minutes later, everything is rung up. The woman has now saved a grand total of $19.20. She still spent over $70 on  _ thread _ but she’s finally out of your store. You feel like breaking down behind your register. You look over to your colleagues and thank them for saving you. They nod in sympathetic understanding.

You look back to your next customer, an attractive man with big brown eyes and hair in every direction holding a selection of items in his arms. “Sorry,” he starts, “I, uh, didn’t think I’d need a basket, and then I got to the aisle and I got excited.”

You laugh, and honestly the smile forming on your face makes your cheeks feel weird. Strained. But it’s nice. “We’ve all been there. And really, I should apologise for the long wait.”

“Don’t,” he waves you off, “I tell you, I could not do your job if you paid me 2 grand a week!”

“I wish I got that in a  _ month _ !” you exclaim, shaking your head as you start to ring his items up. There’s a lot of glue, some jars and bottles, various fabric, sticky labels, fake flowers, frames and a canvas. You shake your head as you scan - honestly, after that draining experience, nothing is phasing you right now/

“You deserve it, having to put up with people like that! God, who needs $90 worth of thread, anyway?” he asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and then hold your hand up to him. “Just. Do not.”

“Right, sorry,” he chuckles softly with a lopsided smile, looking around before groaning. “Now see, if anything around here is worth demanding a discount over, it’s that!” He points to a plaque that’s been irritating you for a long time, too. It reads,  **Not all those that wander are lost.**

You breathe in sharply, waving in the sign’s general direction. “You have no idea how much that annoys me! Like, they added  _ one word _ . Why would they do that? Why would they not just factcheck by Googling the quote to  _ make sure _ they got it right?!”

“Maybe they’re hoping they won’t get sued if they don’t print the  _ direct _ quote,” the guy smirks.

You let out a bubble of laughter, “Ha, maybe!” You bring up his total and he rifles around in his wallet.

“So, uh, you big into Lord of the Rings?” he asks as he flips over bills in his hands.

You shrug, “I’ve seen both trilogies, but I’m not, like, owns-a-Hobbit-outfit, plans-a-trip-to-Mordor obsessed.”

“Damn, cut me deep there,” he mutters, clutching his chest.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What do you me-” Your eyes widen in realisation. “Oh. You’ve  _ done _ that.”

He suddenly darts his eyes from side to side nervously. “You can’t prove that.”

“Sure, not right now. Have fun with your...Supplies!” you hand him the bag and he nods with a grin, waving goodbye to you. You greet the next customer in a much brighter mood.

\-------

You’re working the floor today, checking stock, making sure everything’s tidy, replacing sale signs people seem to deliberately switch over hoping that they’ll catch one employee that  _ doesn’t _ have a list of all the current active sales at their disposal. The day goes with relative ease - you don’t have to deal with very many customers, though someone asking for “the ribbon that’s blue but it also looks kinda green and it’s thin, you  _ definitely  _ had it last time I was here,” getting annoyed at you for not finding it either.

“Sir, I’m sorry, I just...I’m having a tough time trying to picture this style. If you go to the website -”

“Well, _ excuse me _ for still having faith in keeping Americans employed in the retail service and stopping yet another job be taken by technology!” he yells.

You take a deep breath, “Sir, please, I just meant if you find what it looks like, I can see what you want me to search fo-”

“I told you! It’s like..It’s blue, or green or...Whatever, it’s thinner than this one but thicker than  _ this _ one...Like I said, I’m sure it was here before, but it was on a different rack,” he insists.

“Are you sure it wasn’t a clearance sale rack? We put items there cheap that we aren’t getting new stock for,” you explain.

“I know what  _ clearance  _ means,” he sneers. “Whatever. Guess I’ll buy it online then. Have fun looking for a new job in a few months’ time.”

You mouth a, “Will do!” and throw up a pair of sarcastic thumbs-up when the man turns his back on you. You hear a laugh and quickly recompose yourself, looking around to see the cute Tolkein nerd from the other day, stood with a slightly taller, more built man with a pretty blonde girl on his arm. They’re each holding sheets of thick white card, one has cans of spray paint and the other - the one from your earlier shift - has more fake flowers. You nod with a strained smile and a small wave. “I, uh, I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, I’d be the same,” the girl assures you with a smile.

“I’d have thrown him through the clearance rack like,  _ Go and check yourself! _ ” the blue-eyed man adds, making you laugh again.

“You got much more of this?” the other man asks, his eyes sympathetic.

You look at your watch and take a deep breath in, “Three hours!”

“You can do it! I believe in you!” he swings his arm up encouragingly and you grin, brushing your hair out of your face.

“At least one of us does,” you mutter jokingly, and all three laugh. “You, uh, need any help with...What  _ is _ it you need all this stuff for?”

“Secret filming project. Can’t talk too much just yet,” the taller one presses a finger to his lips.

You turn to the other man, fold your arms across your chest and smirk, “It’s not another recreation of something else that happened in the Lord of the Rings films, is it?”

“Ah, so you’ve watched A Simple Walk Into Mordor,” the woman grins.

You return the expression, “Not yet, I didn’t know the name or even if he was serious, but  _ now _ I do!”

He rolls his eyes, “Thanks,  _ Barbara _ .”

“Alright, we better get you and Aaron to the checkout and let this lady get on with her job,” Barbara ushers the men away and nods to you in thanks.

That night, you pull up your laptop and Google  “a simple wa” when it autofills the rest of the title for you. The first entry is a thumbnail of a YouTube video, featuring the guy from the store dressed as a Hobbit, though he looks very slightly different. You click through to see the video was released in 2012, which explains the difference in appearance, but it’s still very much a series about the guy - Chris Demarais, you’ve now learned - and his friends Kerry and Nick walking from Hobbiton to Mount Doom. After that, you find yourself flicking through the archive of a series known as RT Life. You see Barbara in some of them, and in more recent ones the other man they were with - Aaron.

A few days later, you recognise him walking across the whole floor, scanning each aisle with a determined look on his face. You follow him and clear your throat, but he doesn’t seem to notice. You shout, “Chris,” and he turns suddenly, grinning when he sees you.

“Hey!” He cocks his head to read your nametag. “Y/N. I take it you watched A Simple Walk, then?”

You grin with a nod. “Amongst other Rooster Teeth things.”

“Oh god, what have you watched?” he asks half-amusedly and half-nervously.

“Some of the Life things, some of the Shorts. Your company sure makes some great content!” you grin.

“Hey, thanks! It’s what we do,” he shrugs. He looks at his watch and points excitedly. “Hey, it’s 5! That means it’s time for you to go, right?”

You sigh, “I wish! Nope, I’m closing today, so I’m here until late.”

Chris groans with a quiet,  _ “Damn _ .”

You blush, choosing to pretend he didn’t say that rather than wonder what he meant. You clear your throat, “So, what is it you’re getting today? More weird stuff for your series I’m not to know about?”

Chris laughs, “Nope! Actually, uh, I was looking specifically for you. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go get dinner sometime,” he rubs the back of his neck nervously.

You stammer, “W-Wha-I mean, I’d love to! I-I’m sorry I can’t go with you right now,” you start but he waves you off again.

“It’s fine! I shouldn’t have assumed your hours. Uh, when are you next on an opening shift?”

You push your lips to the side, looking away as you think. Your eyes lock onto a display of pens and, grinning, you pick up one of the demo ones, scribble on a pad to make sure it works and grab Chris’ wrist, writing your number on his palm. “Why don’t you remind me to check when I get home?”

He grins, biting his lip and clenches his fist in celebration. “Will do!”

“Hey! Y/N!” A barking voice shouts from behind you. A fellow manager, one who you try so hard to maintain civility with, swaggers over to you. “I thought I told you to maintain the front zone!”

“Oh, it’s fine, she was helping m-” Chris starts, but your co-manager raises his hand right in front of his face.

“Sir, if you don’t mind, this is between myself and my colleague.” He grabs you by the arm and pulls you away. Chris watches helplessly and you shrug in apology. He stops at the area you’re supposed to be manning. “Look. Some kid broke a tub of glitter. The parents have  _ already _ paid for the damages  _ and _ left. You’re cleaning this up.”

You sigh in defeat, “Yeah, sure,” huffing sadly.

“You know, if you really don’t wanna be here, you don’t  _ have _ to be,” he sneers at you and you shake your head, rushing off to get cleaning supplies. You can’t believe they’d promote an asshat like him. Power’s gone right to his head. Worst thing, is that now that one person’s being an ass, everyone’s teaming up to channel all the negative energy the clients have built within them - onto you. You wish it was as easy as they say it is to “just quit and look elsewhere” but with rent, bills, paying off your college costs...Right now, you  _ can’t _ .

When you get home, you curl up on your bed and you can’t help but cry into your pillow. You wish that you didn’t feel the need to. Your phone buzzes from inside your jeans pocket and you wrestle it out, wiping the tears from your cheeks. You laugh out loud at the chain of texts.

 

  * __Hey! This is Y/N’s number, right? It’s Chris, from the craft store!__


  * _Alright, so your store closes at 9, right? How long after do you leave?_


  * _P.S I’m sorry that guy’s such a jerk. I wish I could’ve done more_


  * _*crrrk* Earth to Y/N, come in Y/N. Or whoever this is if it’s a wrong number. My bad._



 

You have to correct yourself a few times, but you eventually send out:

 

  * __Hi! It’s Y/N, don’t worry. I’m sorry, I haven’t long been home from work.__



 

You take a deep breath and make yourself a hot drink. By the time you return to your bed you’ve got another two texts:

 

  * __After what I’ve seen over the past few days I don’t blame you!__


  * _But from what I can remember from today, I believe you were gonna tell me when you’re next off early…_



 

You grab your journal and flick through it, stopping when you reach this week. 

 

  * __I’m on closing tomorrow, then opening, then I have a day off!”__



 

He answers before you can even lock your screen:

 

  * __Day after tomorrow, got it! Any specific requests on where you wanna go?__



 

You take a moment to ponder before answering:

 

  * __I don’t mind that, but watching all those videos has me thinking…__



 

The next responses make you laugh:

 

  * __Oh dear god.__


  * _I’m drawing the line at wearing the Hobbit cloak._



 

When you manage to catch your breath again you type back:

 

  * __I didn’t quite mean THAT far, but, well...If you were to wear that red headband thingy, I sure wouldn’t object… :)__



 

You don’t even have time to exit the conversation when Chris replies:

 

  * __You got it. :)__



 

The next shift goes by a lot quicker with Chris constantly texting you encouraging messages to keep you going through. The day after you’re buzzing more than your phone through the shift, and once you see the familiar man in a navy blue and red softball tee and a red bandana across his head, you move back into the staff room, get yourself changed out of your uniform and clock out in what the other colleagues make to be record time.


End file.
